I'm Not Crying
by freakyfresh
Summary: Elena deals with the death of Alaric.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first fanfic to write for Vampire Diaries. I was going to leave the fanfiction writing to the professionals but this idea came to me and I couldn't get it out of my head lol. I hope you all enjoy! **

The morning sun shining on my face forces me to open my eyes and realize that it is time to start another day. I roll over onto my back and struggle with the covers that got tangled in my sleep. With a frustrated flop I decide to lie down and enjoy a few more moments of peace and quiet. The birds are chirping sweetly outside my bedroom window and I wonder if it would be possible to stifle their joyful tune with the wooden stake under my pillow. Not everyone appreciates being greeting with the reality that there is happiness in the world. Especially when they know that happiness is so far from their reach.

Damn. What the hell happened to me? I let out a strained chuckle and run and hand through the tangled mess known as my hair. I remember when waking up to a bird chirping was my favorite part of the morning.

Sign. Those were the days. I take a moment to allow myself to remember what life was like before all of this. To remember when I was fifteen years old and thought that the supernatural world was the coolest thing ever. I chuckle at the naivety of my younger self. My friends and I would read books and watch movies, the entire time our eyes would be wide with wonder. No matter how scary the movies got, how crazy the imaginations of the creators were, we never stopped filling our minds with the tales of the underworld, or the battles of the supernatural. What was the harm? It was all fiction right? Ha. If only. It is funny to think of how different my perspective is. A genre of movies and books that was once so fascinating because of the unrealistic fictional stories is now a reality that was frightening and unbelievably challenging.

When my parents died. Man. I can't even begin to try and explain the horrible pain that would pierce through my heart everyday for months. Every memory, every moment I'd run to tell them something forgetting for one second that they were gone, when I'd expect them to walk through my bedroom door at 9:30pm sharp to tell me goodnight, it was like a knife stabbing me over and over again. I prayed that I'd never have to experience that feeling ever again. Recovery? Ha. What a joke. Who recovers from that? It is more like a chronic pain that you learn to live with for the rest of your days. Your focus shifts to other aspects of life so it seems to dull, but it never leaves.

But here I am. Experiencing that pain over and over and over again. At first I'd ask myself why. Why did I have to be dealt a rough hand? Couldn't life have used a different deck of cards? Maybe one with flowers, smiles, and laughter instead of death, doppelgangers, and witches. Then I fell in love. With Stefan? Yeah, but with other people too. It was the love I had for my friends and family who were all integrated into this crazy world, unknown by so many, that made me stop asking why and simply answering life's challenges with a fight powered by determination. Call me crazy, but I adjusted. The new norm is sleeping with a wooden stake under my pillow and a cellphone in my hand to speed dial Damon at any sign of trouble.

These steady events that cause pain, Jenna's death and Stefan's little adventure with Klaus are just a few examples, never come without a steady stream of tears. I've never been so sick and tired of crying. It seems like that's all I've done for the past few years. Now? Well now….

Alaric is dead. The only dad I had left in the entire world. Sure, he was unconventional, unexpected, and unforeseen, but he was also protective, wise, and the closest thing to a parent I had left. This pain, this unquenchable pain, is literally tearing my heart apart. I can't feel anything else. No matter what I do it never stops.

A knock at my bedroom door breaks my mental babbling.

"Hey," Stefan's face appears in the sunlight and I want nothing more than to go back to sleep. "I wanted to check on you." He comes in and sits at the edge of my bed.

"Yeah, well I'm fine." I jerk the covers from my body and walk to my bathroom.

A part of me hopes that he will take the hint and get the hell out of my room. Don't get me wrong, Stefan is sweet for checking up on me, but when all I want is to be left alone sweet equals annoying. Especially when EVERYONE seems to have made it their personal mission to make sure I'm functioning properly. Heaven forbid I have an emotion that isn't recorded in the Daily Log of Elena's Feelings.

When I come out of the bathroom he is still sitting at the end of my bed with a look full of concern.

"What?" I snap with a hand on my pajama clad hip.

Stefan releases a sigh and moves to stand in front of me, "Bonnie said that you were….moody."

My eyebrow shoot up. "Moody?"

"Elena, we're all worried about you." He is obviously avoiding my invitation to expound on his previous statement.

"Why?" I know it was a dumb question but I couldn't help but ask it anyways.

With another sigh, he runs his hand through his hair. I can't help but notice how both brothers share that habit.

"You're shutting down. It isn't healthy."

"I'm not shutting down, Stefan." I should be given some credit here. You have no idea how hard it was for me to not roll my eyes. I sidestep him, walk to my dresser, and grab my hairbrush to tame my unruly lochs.

"Yes, you are."

"Oh really? How am I doing that?" I glance at him through the mirror.

"Oh come on. Don't act like you have no idea what I'm talking about." His jaw clenches in frustration. Funny how things that I used to think were sexy about him now elicit an eye roll.

I twirl my brush in my hand and turn to face him. "For the sake of this conversation, let's say that I don't."

It would be a lie to say that I do not realize that I sound like Damon right now, and the glare from Stefan tells me that he notices it too.

"Have you talked to Carolina? Bonnie? Have you even left this house for purposes other than to come to my house for a meeting to discuss our next course of action against Klaus? Elena, you haven't even cried!"

That was a lie. I have cried. Too much pain has consumed my soul to not cry in some way. The old Elena would have been in her bed for days sobbing her eyes out. The new Elena is stronger, and refuses to turn back to that weak person who couldn't bear the thought of seeing blood, and told herself that she could shed one tear. Only one tear and it better be good, and it was.

"I'm sorry." I sigh. His eyes instantly soften at my words and he begins to walk towards me. "I'm sorry that I'm not acting how everyone wants me to, but quite frankly I don't give a shit!" He stops dead in his tracks and returns my hard glare.

"Why so angry Stefan? Are you scared that I'm not going to fulfill my tear quota for the month?" He would have to be pretty dense to not hear the sarcasm in my voice.

He approaches me with determined steps; his voice raised "Do you realize how selfish you are being? There are people worried about you! I'm worried about you! But you don't hesitate to shut any of us out. We all loved Alaric, Elena. You weren't the only one who lost him."

"Selfish? How am I being selfish? Because I'm not following the script on how a person is supposed to grieve? Give me a break! If anyone is selfish it is you!" I find myself yelling back.

"Oh really? How do you figure that?" He steps closer.

"You want me to fall apart." Yep. I'm definitely skating on thin ice, but you know what? I'm fucking tired of all of this.

"That is completely ridiculous and you know it." He points his finger at me.

"Is it? You left with Klaus. When you left things changed. I'm not the same old Elena who needs someone to hold her hand and help her across every bump that appears in the road. I'm stronger. I can handle myself. I can handle this lifestyle."

"What does that have to do with anything?" His face is puzzled.

"Don't you see? I don't need you to rescue me anymore! I don't need a _hero_. The moment you regained your humanity you have been trying to win me back by proving to me that you are the same old Stefan that can save me. Now you are sitting by, hoping, that I'll fall apart so that you can piece me back together." The air between us is tense.

"You, Elena Gilbert, have _completely_ lost your mind. Don't you see what is going on? You're spiraling." His voice is dangerously low and almost frightening.

"I'm seeing clearer than I've ever seen before, Stefan. I don't need a hero and I don't need to be saved. Find someone else to play the damsel in distress because it won't fucking be me."

For a few moments he stares into my eyes. I suppose he thought that I would retract everything I said and throw myself into his arms with tears of apology and sorrow streaming down my face.

"You really have changed haven't you?" His voice is so soft that my human hearing had a hard time catching what he said.

"Yeah, but haven't we all?" I ask softly.

He reaches his hand up and cups my cheek. The butterflies that would fly in unbelievably fast circles whenever he touched me remain in their graves that were dug months ago.

With a sad smile Stefan walks away and leaves me to my thoughts.

Man, is this day a downer or what? After an hour of failed attempts at taking my mind off of things, I realize that this penetrating pain isn't being dulled down in the slightest. There is only one thing that can help and that one thing is at The Grill. A place full of memories and most importantly, alcohol.

TBC

Hope you enjoyed it!

LieghAnna


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey Guys! I'm really excited about the response to this story. I've never done a chapter story before so I'm quite nervous but I want to thank those who have hopped on to enjoy the ride with me :D Thanks for everything! I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

There is a pounding in my head that was most definitely _not_ there when I went to bed last night. Although, it could have been because I don't really remember a lot about what happened towards the end of last night. Hey, don't judge. That's Bonnie's job.

The large amount of pillows that surround me starts to feel suffocating. With a painful groan I open my eyes to the blaring sunlight that is shining into my bedroom and prop myself up on my elbows.

"Starting to regret those last few shots, huh?" Damon. Be still my beating heart.

Look, I know what you are thinking. Stefan is the one for you, Elena! Calm down. I'm not jumping into marriage or anything. I'm just finally dropping the whole "I'm oblivious to Damon's feelings about me and in denial about my feelings for him" act. Stefan is sweet and caring, loving and devoted. Sure, maybe he is using this entire situation as an opportunity to reconnect with me, but at least he is trying. Don't think for a second that I don't care about Stefan, or want him in my life, because I do. But somewhere between trying to save him, and then getting him to feel some sliver of humanity again, I stopped being in love with him and simply loved him. He is my friend. One of the best. I think it was over for us long before he left. Somewhere during the course of the relationship I began to see him more as a best friend who was by my side and less as a lover who could get me off. Besides, Damon is not the worst person to wake up to in the morning. Especially when he is wearing that stormy gray V-neck shirt that hugs his body in all the right places and dark denim jeans. Except for this morning I'm not really in the mood for his sexy smirks and well timed sarcasm.

I flop back down and run my hands over my face.

"Actually, I was contemplating how underappreciated alcohol is." Is my muffled reply.

"Hmm…interesting." I can feel the dip of the left side of my mattress, which tells me that Damon is once again making himself right at home in my bed.

"What is?" I steady my gaze on the ceiling trying to calm the nausea in my stomach.

"Oh nothing." I release a sigh. I'm not in the mood for his games. From the corner of my eye I see my stuffed bear being flipped into the air, repeatedly, in some game of catch.

I cuddle deeper into my blankets hoping to find some sort of comfort in them.

This morning when I woke up, the first thing I thought of was Alaric's pancakes. On Sunday mornings he usually makes them. I remember asking him why. I thought that they might have been his favorite and Sundays were the only times he had the opportunity to make them. They weren't his favorite. A warm smile crosses my face as I remember the way he tousled my hair and pulled me in for a hug before offering a cup of coffee.

"You think pancakes are my favorite? Come on now. I'd like to think that my taste is a little more sophisticated than pancakes. French toast. Now _that _is a breakfast to be proud of, too bad I can't make it worth shit." After we shared a laugh he told me that pancakes were the best things he knew how to cook and that a teenager deserved a hot breakfast on a lazy Sunday morning.

He took a seat next to me and served a plate of fresh, hot, pancakes.

"It is nice to have some sort of weekly tradition we can count on in the midst of the craziness that surrounds us." He smiled as I took a mouth full of pancakes, "Besides, it's tradition for families to have traditions, isn't it? Even mismatched families deserve something." He tousled my hair again and laughed at my annoyed face.

It was tradition. It never failed that on Sunday mornings I'd wake up with an intense hunger for pancakes. That same knife twists around and around in my heart when I remember that Alaric isn't here to make them. Why can't I have one person? _One_ person who is exempt from falling victim to the supernatural world.

It wasn't until I feel Damon's finger swiping a tear from my cheek that I realize I've let myself fall back into old habits. I will NOT cry.

Without sparing a glance in Damon's direction, I throw the covers away from my body without caring if all I'm only wearing is a t-shirt and short plaid pajama shorts. The dizziness I feel from getting up too fast and the blinding pain that is piercing through my skull are ignored. All that matters is getting to the bathroom so that I can restore my composure. There is absolutely no way that I can pull myself back together in Damon's presence, and I have to leave before this overwhelming buildup of emotions bursts out of me in the most aggravating way. Tears are _**not**_ an option.

I bump into a hard body and instantly know that it's Damon.

"Elena," His tone is soft and I find myself unhappy about where this is headed.

"Damon, stop. Okay? Just stop!" I try to sidestep him but I only bump into him again. "Why do you have to be so infuriating?" I yell.

I hold his gaze. Damn, these eyes are going to be the death of me. All I can see in his eyes is understanding and a little bit of concern. Instead of soothing me it spurs my anger on more. I don't want people to be understanding.

"Move!"

"No, Elena." He returns my glare with just as much determination.

"Why are you being such a dick?" I push at his chest.

"I'm not stupid. I know that this wall you have built around yourself is threatening to fall this very moment. You think I'm going to give you the opportunity to build reinforcements? Hell no!" This is the thing I both adore and despise about Damon. He doesn't put up with my shit. He actually seems to enjoy calling me out on it. Something about it amusing him. Right now though, I do not see a trace of amusement in his eyes, just anger.

"What the hell is wrong with everybody?" I begin pacing the room, running a hand through my hair. I stop and face him again. "Why can't you accept the fact that I'm not the same weak, spoiled, emotional girl I was when you first met me? Did you really think that this whole mess wouldn't affect me some how? That I'd actually remain the same person throughout it all?" A grim laugh escapes my mouth. Damon's steely gaze proves that he is ready to counteract whatever I throw at him. "My parents are dead, Damon. Aunt Jenna is dead, Alaric is dead, Jeremy is communicating with ghosts, my ex-boyfriend just got back from months of tearing people to shreds, and my blood is on the most wanted list. What do you expect?"

I cross my arms protectively when I see Damon advancing towards me. Why does he have to make things so difficult? I know why. This is what we do to each other. We drive each other up the wall because we know each other better than anyone else. Damon and I have always had this connection. We know each other inside out, and it is because of that reason that there is absolutely no way we can allow the other person to pretend to be something that they aren't. Usually, this causes fights where words are thrown like poisoned arrows, threats are made, and heated stares that harbor an inferno of sexual tension are shared. It is fun. It is challenging. It is us, and I wouldn't change it for the world. But today? Today, all I want is to be left alone.

I open my mouth to give him another piece of my mind, but when he cups my face with those amazing hands I lose my train of thought.

How could I have denied my feelings for so long? I care about this wonderful man standing in front of me. I more than care about him. I almost positive that I lo-

"Elena, this isn't you." He whispers. His breath sweeps over my face like a kiss as his thumbs stroke my cheeks. The way his brow is furrowed and lips are parted awake the butterflies in my stomach. "Baby please, don't shut down on me. Don't lose yourself to this world. _Fight_ it. Your heart is full of emotions, beautiful emotions. It's a part of who you are. It isn't weak. It is precious. It is something to be cherished. Please hold on to that, because I can't bare to lose you."

I feel the familiar prickle behind my eyes and I can see the watery glaze that has covered his. My heart hurts even more to think that I've caused him pain in any way, but there is another pain that is threatening to consume me and I find that I'm terrified. Unknowingly I slip away from Damon's grasp and stagger towards the bathroom. It hurts. I feel like my heart is slowly being ripped apart.

I grip my dresser when I feel like I'm losing my balance. This agony is none like I have ever experienced. I feel like someone is stepping on my chest and it makes breathing painful and really, really hard. I can hear Damon calling my name and feel his arms supporting my frame but it all seems like I'm miles away. I grip my chest and gasp for air. The realization that I want nothing else than to have Alaric tousle my hair, or surprise attack me to "test my skills", or hear his laugh whenever Jeremy says something stupid hits me like a semi-truck. I crumple to the ground taking Damon with me.

"I can't breathe." I strangle out. My throat is tight and my mouth is dry.

"Elena, look at me!" Damon forces my eyes to his, "You have to let it go. Stop fighting it." I try to listen to what he is saying, I really do but I can't get a grip. The pressure just gets heavier and heavier. I've never been so terrified in my entire life. It is like the air is being sucked out of me.

"Get Alaric, Damon. I need him." His eyes widen when he hears my words and I can see him open his mouth to respond. That's when I realize. He can't get Alaric even if he wanted to. Alaric is dead.

People say that when something tragic happens a person enters into a state of shock. They may acknowledge that the incident has occurred but the actual acceptance of the truth is emotionally blocked out. It is a way of the body protecting itself. When that shock wears off it either eases you back into reality like the guiding hand of a mother, or it slaps you in the face.

My hand flies to my mouth as a loud sob escapes me.

Reality just fucking bitch slapped me.

TBC

**I'm really excited about this chapter. I hope you all liked it as well. **

**Let me know what you think!**

**LeighAnna :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello Loveys! **

**Okay so I was rereading this story and realized that I was extremely unsatisfied with the ending. I decided to post this ending instead. I feel that it is better all around. Hopefully, you feel the same way too *fingers crossed* **

To say that I'm embarrassed is a _complete_ understatement. It is ridiculous that I should be. I mean, after everything that we have been through you would think I'd be used to this downward spiral of emotions and Damon would be used to lifting me back up. The fact that I was spouting off how "strong" I am moments before the Wall of Elena came crashing down only serves to make me feel childish. I made a fool of myself. Damon never brought attention to that. He never acted like I wasn't strong. I don't know how long we sat on the floor but as the sobs wracked my body Damon held me in his arms and whispered words of encouragement.

"Here you go," Damon handed me a cup of hot tea. I sent him a grateful smile and snuggling further into the corner of the couch. Once my tears had ceased, despite my objections, Damon insisted that a shower and some tea was exactly what I needed. So here I am, in my t-shirt and yoga pants, doing exactly what the doctor ordered.

"Do you feel any better?" I look up to find him lounging in the armchair staring at me intently.

I let out an exhausted sigh before replying, "I'm fine, Damon."

His eyes. God. I can feel my heartbeat pick up in my chest from his penetrating gaze. I bet he knows that those baby blues are my weakness. One glance and I'm practically a pile of goo in his hands. They always hold so much emotion in them that it is both frightening and overwhelming all at the same time.

I don't know how anyone could have said that he was unfeeling, or cold hearted. If you simply took the time to watch him you could see that he feels more fiercely than anyone I have ever known. He is the epitome of strength. The pain, the pressure, and the responsibility he endures every single day with grace and elegance is memorizing. He, more than anyone, has the right to crumble. Yet he doesn't. He makes the tough decisions and takes the blame for it. He bravely withstands whatever is thrown at him and carries us through whatever comes our way. Alaric knew this about Damon. I think he knew it more so than I do. The fragility of his soul, the intensity with which he feels wasn't lost to Alaric. He would remind me of it every now and then. Telling me to be careful because he didn't want to see either one of us hurt. I knew that he was more worried about Damon. After all he is- I mean was- his best friend, although he wouldn't admit it.

Alaric. He was a special kind of person.

The first day I came back to school, after my parents died, I had a test in history that I was not informed about. Of course I hadn't studied at all. Man, that day had been horrible and thinking of the fact that I was about to fail a test on top of it all had me near tears. Alaric passed out the tests. I didn't even look at him because I was trying to remember all I could about what we had gone over in previous classes but I couldn't. When I looked down at my test and you know what it said? It said, "Don't even think about taking this test, Kiddo." And his number was scribbled underneath it saying to call if I needed anything. It had given me a sense of comfort because I knew someone had my back.

I feel the familiar prickle behind my eyes at the memory. No! No more crying!

Take a deep breath, Gilbert. You're going to be _fine_.

Damon's hand on my knee startles me. He must have moved to sit across from me on the coffee table while I was lost in my own thoughts.

"Lena," He says simply. I hate it. I hate how he expects me to know what he is saying with just one word. I hate that I do. It means that I can't hide anything from him. He knows that I'm not fine. He knows that there are things I want to say, that I've been keeping from him.

"When Jenna died," I ignore his fixed look and focus on the circular motion my spoon is making as I stir the tea. "I…I had no idea what to do." There is a catch in my throat "He stepped up when he didn't have to and I-" A tear I thought I was incapable of crying ran down my face and I brush it away rapidly. Frustrated more than anything that I can't seem to formulate a sentence without keeping my emotions in check. I clear my throat. "Now that he is gone? God, I don't know what to do. He was there through _everything._" I whisper. My chest aches with grief and I rest my hand on it to desperately try and ease it. "I feel like I'm being stabbed in the heart. It hurts so much, Damon." My voice squeaks with emotion. "I hoped that if I didn't think about it, it wouldn't actually be real. That maybe I could pretend my way through it. I wanted to be strong for Jeremy and-" I wipe another stray tear and take a shaky breath and meet his eyes. "I wanted to be strong for you."

"For me?" Damon's brow furrows in confusion. "You don't have to be strong for-"

"But I do!" I put my tea aside to sit up and look into his eyes. "You are so strong for me, Damon. No matter what you may be suffering through you do whatever you can to make sure that I am taken care of, that we are _all_ taken care of. He was your _best friend._ I know-" I pause when I see pain flash across his face and he turns away from me. My hands cup his clean-shaven face and force him to meet my eyes. "You, Damon Salvatore, have been everything to me, even when I wanted nothing more than for you to go away." A small laugh escapes him and I mentally give myself a high-five for being responsible for it. "Damon, I'm being serious." I sit back a little, releasing his face and letting my arms slide down onto his shoulders.

"I know you are." His voice barely above a whisper.

"There are so many times that you are my strength when there is absolutely none left in me. Please allow me to be your strength too. I _want_ to be here for you."

"You do?" His unbelieving voice resembles that of a small child and it breaks my heart. Guilt consumes me as I see the evidence of the fact that I haven't really given him any reason to believe that I would want to be there for him as much as he wants to be here for me. Thinking back, I can see how everything I've done has given the exact opposite impression.

"Yes," I breathe with a small smile. He smiles one of those rare, genuine, smiles that are only seen by few and cups my cheek with his hand.

I want to bask in the glory of it but I'm too overwhelmed with guilt and shame.

"I'm sorry."

His brow furrows, "For what?"

I want to explain that there are a million things I am sorry for. Not only for crying my eyes out for the last few hours, but also because I acted like our kiss at the hotel never happened and then asked his brother out on a date a few days later. Most of all? Most of all I'm so extremely sorry for acting like the trust, the friendship, and the team that we became all meant nothing the moment Stefan came back. Come on. You _have _to admit it. Going behind his back and siding with Stefan then saying that horrible comment? That was absolutely unacceptable. Then to treat him like shit because he reacted, which is his God given right? God. How does he love me? How can he continually be there for me whenever I do this to him? I want to explain all of this, but I can't because his hand stroking my cheek mixed with the love reflected in his eyes has made my mouth dry.

"F-for everything." I stutter breathlessly. Hey, don't judge me! If you had an extremely hot man touching you, would you be able to properly express yourself?

The corner of his mouth tilts upward to form a smirk and I find myself staring at his lips.

"Don't worry about it. We all do things we regret." I snap my eyes back to his. In his own way, he is apologizing. It is funny how Damon can give some of the best apologies without ever saying the words "I'm sorry".

"Yeah, we do." I smile back at him. His face inches closer to mine and I feel my lips twitch in anticipation. Kissing him in Denver was….. mind-blowing? Insanity? Indescribable? If I said it hadn't been all I could think about then I would be lying.

Just when I think I'm finally going to have the opportunity to relive the experience, he reaches around me and grabs my mug.

"You wait here, I'll go warm up your tea." He sends me another smirk and caresses my jaw.

I try not to groan out loud in frustration. He knew what he was doing to me! I suppose it _is_ my turn to do the chasing for once. He has practically been running a freaking marathon trying to get me to notice him. Not only him but also our potential, how amazing we could be together if I'd just stop fighting it.

How did I not notice what an incredible man he is? I remember the first time I became aware of just how serious my feelings for Damon were.

We had decided to take a much-needed break from looking for Stefan. As a result, Jeremy and I were enjoying a relaxed Saturday at home. Alaric was at school catching up on some papers he needed to grade. How that man maintained his job, went around fighting psychotic vampires,_ and_ played substitute daddy is beyond me.

Jeremy was loudly playing one of his shoot'em up video games and when I came down the stairs to ask him to turn down the volume I noticed Damon sitting on the couch with him.

"You can't do that!" Jeremy shouted agitated.

"Apparently I can." Damon sent him a cocky smirk.

"I'm you _teammate_, Damon. Do you know what that means? It means you aren't supposed to shoot me!"

"Then _get out_ of my way." Damon laughed "Gotcha!" he shouted at some zombie on the screen. "Oh look! I just unlocked another level. You are welcome." He smile smugly at Jer.

"That's it!" Jeremy swiftly grabbed the remote from Damon's hands.

"What the hell?"

"If you aren't going to play properly then you can't play at all." Jer stated matter-of-factly.

"Okay, _Mother._" Damon held Jeremy's glare before lunging for the remote. Surprisingly, Jeremy stood quickly dodging Damon's attack.

"Nope. Not going to happen, dude." Jeremy emphasized with a shake of his head. "You think I've lived with Alaric and didn't pick up on a few evasive tactics?"

Damon let out a laugh before lunging after Jeremy again, tackling him to the ground. Thus ensued a wrestling match. Somewhere in the midst of the "No biting, Jeremy!" and the "Watch your knee! Unlike _you_, children are still an option for me!" I realized that Damon had snuck into my heart and made a home. It had scared me a bit. Not only the thought that I was falling for Damon, but also to become aware of the fact that I wasn't looking forward to Stefan, my boyfriend whom I was supposed to love and want more than anyone, coming back. I relished having Damon all to myself.

I become aware of the fact that I've made my way into the kitchen. Damon is leaning against the counter waiting for the tea to finish heating up. His gray short stretching over the muscles in his back. I allow myself to take a moment to really look at him. Damon really is handsome. Okay, that is a _major_ understatement. His jet-black hair contrasted by his beautiful blue eyes, the curve of his nose, and sharp line of his jaw combine to create perfection.

"Hey, I thought I told you to wait." He throws me a smile over his shoulder.

"I..I just.." Get control, Gilbert!

He looks up at me with a quirked eyebrow.

I release a breathy laugh while shaking my head, "That isn't what- I mean- I'm trying to-

He gives me a puzzled look. "Are you okay?

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it?" I make my way to stand in front of him.

"Elena, you're talking in circles." He sets the mug down on the counter.

"I'm talking about us." His eyes widen for a split second. There are really only two options for how this could all go down. One is that I shall regret my impulsive desire for an Oprah style sharing moment that will end in humiliation. Two, this will end up being a great opportunity. For what? How should I know? If you haven't noticed already, I'm kind of flying by the seat of my pants.

"I realize that things haven't been-" Damon abruptly holds up his hand signaling me to stop.

"We're not talking about this right now, Elena." His voice is hard and his face is void of emotion. He is brisling about the kitchen, putting things away so fast I'm almost positive he is tapping into his supernatural speed.

"What? Why?"

"Because." He dumps my tea down the drain. Well, I _was_ looking forward to drinking that.

"Because why?" I try again.

"Can we _not_ do something simply because I don't want to? Why do I have to have a well thought out reason to accompany every decision I make?" I would be annoyed at the fact that he is snapping at me, but I'm too confused as to why he is acting this way. I thought he would be happy that I want to talk to him about there even being a possibility of and "us".

I grab his arm, "Would you stop moving around so we can have a conversation?"

Leaning against a counter, he breathes a frustrated sigh and runs a hand through his black lochs.

"Talk to me." I rest my hands on his chest. "Please."

Silence falls between us. He seems content to stare at me with an unreadable expression. It is moments like these that cause me to wonder what goes on inside his head. When his manner is inscrutable and his eyes like a raging sea, dark and obscure. It is both scary and intriguing.

"I love you." My breath catches in my throat. The knowledge of his feelings is nothing compared to the actual declaration of them. Especially when I'm close enough to feel his breath on my face, hear the softness of his voice, and see the look in his eye.

"You know that I do." I nod my head numbly; my hands slide down onto his hips. "Which is why I can't take it, Lena."

"Wha-"

"Please don't." His shakes his hand. "Don't try and cheer me up, and don't throw me a bone simply because you want to ease my pain because all it does is give me hope. Trust me, having hope hurts worse than not having any at all." He escapes from my grasp and walks to the window. Stefan was right. I _am _selfish. Especially when it comes to Damon. I take all he has to give and then some.

"Please, don't think that I am upset with you. I'm not." He continues to look out the window. "Even if I wanted to be I couldn't. Love sucks like that." He turns towards me and flashes a grim smirk. "I simply can't allow myself to indulge anymore."

"Indulge?"

"Have you not noticed that every time you permit yourself to feel more than friendship towards me, and _actually _act upon it is when something emotionally taxing is taking place?"

"That isn't true!" I defend. Although a part of me realizes that it is.

"Oh really? The "Pity Damon Salvatore" deathbed escapade, the loss of Saint Stefan, compelling your brother to leave town-"

"That isn't fair and you know it!"

"It isn't fair?" His scoff mixed with the anger that appears in his eyes creates a nervous flutter in my stomach. "You know what isn't fair? The fact that every _single_ time I feel like we are getting somewhere, that just _maybe_ you might feel a semblance of what I feel for you, you shut the door in my face with your regret and constant declarations of love for my brother. So _excuse_ me if I don't want to go down that road again because all it leads to is an agonizing, predictable dead end. Even I am not that much of a masochist, Elena."

My eyes are downcast. I don't know if it is because I'm too ashamed of myself to look him in the eye, or if I'm trying to compose myself from the painful truth that smacked me in the face. Most likely it is both. Sure, every word he said was true, but there is another side to it, the most beautiful side.

With a deep breath I gather the nerve to respond to his outburst. What I wouldn't get for some liquid courage right about now.

"Damon," with cautious steps I cover the distance between us, "Look at me."

With much reluctance, he turns to look at me and the pain in his eyes hits me to my core. My arms itch to reach out and touch him but I can tell that it is the last thing he needs right now and I'm done being selfish.

"I'm sorry for causing you pain." I feel the familiar prickle behind my eyes and try and swallow past the lump in my throat. "I hope you believe me when I say that it was the_ last_ thing I _ever_ wanted to do. But I refuse to stand here and let you belittle the very moments that caused me to see you for the wonderful, caring, and beautiful man that you are." Damon puts his hands on my shoulders and opens his mouth to speak but I beat him to the punch.

"You showed so much grace and strength in those moments. Allowing me to see your in your most vulnerable state on what we thought was your deathbed, being by my side through _everything_ when Stefan left, and helping me give my brother a better life away from Mystic Falls. It allowed me the privilege of seeing your love for me in its purest form." My fingers wrap about his belt loops and pull him closer to me. He quirks an eyebrow at my actions. "You're right. I do have regrets. I regret how I handled it when things got real between us. I regret allowing Stefan's return to diminish the bond we had formed. I don't regret you, though. I'll _never_ regret you."

Damon's gaze penetrates me, trying to determine if I mean what I say and despite his best efforts I can tell that he really hopes I do. I try to focus on those blue orbs, but I've been dreaming about his tempting lips for weeks now and our close proximity is making it hard.

"I'm going to kiss you now." His eyes widen once again. I ignore it and leave on a breaths space between us. "Not because I'm throwing you a bone. It's going to be because I have fallen madly, deeply, inexhaustibly in love with you Damon Salvatore."

He molds our lips together in what I'm quite sure will be the most mind-blowing kiss I've ever had the privilege of receiving.

The passion that has been building up and never fully got its release in Denver, and the excitement of requited love, spills over until I can barely stand.

"I love you too." He mumbles against my lips.

Alaric's death is still fresh and painful. The days that lay ahead will undoubtedly be hard to handle. But I have come to realize something. Life is going to be full of tears and sadness no matter what, but there is beauty in it too. Beauty that is hidden behind the doom and gloom. Beauty waiting to be discovered. And as I stand here kissing the man I love, I know that I have just discovered some of it.

**Let me know what you think!**

**3 LeighAnna**


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